


Metallic Warriors

by arielleblack



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 02:36:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13067352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arielleblack/pseuds/arielleblack
Summary: Noel Barton once lived in the shadow of her brother, but that all changed when Loki attacked. She evolved from a SHIELD agent to an Avenger with powers and prestige of her very own. But something ominous was always looming, something not quite right. The Avengers thought that it was Hydra, but it's much more than that.Three years have passed since Noel's last battle with the Avengers. With Hydra defeated and the Avengers recognised as an Earth security force, the universe has been relatively calm. Things have changed for all of the Avengers. Noel has established a new life for herself in a new place, with new people. But nothing ever stays quiet for long, a great disturbance is growing in the universe, and this time, it's not just Earth that's in danger.But after three years, will the heroes' new-found differences threaten their ability to work together?-This book is book 5 of a series I started years ago on Wattpad but I'm trying to use this book as a revival and am aiming for it to be able to be read without prior series knowledge.





	1. Welcome (back) to New York

**Author's Note:**

> This book is number 5 in a series that I started about 5 years ago on Wattpad called Metallic Charms but I'm trying to use this book as a 'revival' of sorts and I am aiming for it to be readable without prior series knowledge.
> 
> I would also like to mention that this series pretty much follows events directly from the first Avengers film and as such, does not incorporate any of the sequel movies and solo hero moves like Captain America: The Winter Solider. This also includes any Marvel TV shows such as Agents of SHIELD, Agent Carter, the Defenders and so on. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

New York, New York, the United States of America, North America, Northern Hemisphere, Earth, Midgard, the Nine Realms.

Where I stand is technically the most populated place in the U.S, the most amount of people, a huge city that was considered the hub of the world by a lot of people. It’s enough to make a person feel small. But at this particular moment, I feel like a giant. I feel like wherever my foot lands I’m causing irreparable damage to everything and everyone around me. The occasional person looks at me twice to verify who I am, and I regret being in my current location every time it happens. Especially when the shadow that has been following me around all day catches up with me. I can feel the sun disappearing, the warmth on my back vanishes suddenly and without warning - within an instant the shadow of the even taller and more renovated Stark Tower engulfs me. No matter how fast I run away, it always manages to suck me in and drown me every single time I visit Manhattan. Granted, I’d only visited a handful of times since I moved, but each time was more painful than the last.

I stare up at the gigantic, silver building, the monstrous A hanging off the side, covered in a thin layer of ice, that I had once been a part of. A small red shape flings across the sky, the gold glinting in the sunlight and stinging my eyes in more ways than one. Tony, returning home. From what mission, I couldn’t tell you. I’m not even sure I wish I could.

I manage to pull my eyes away long enough to pop into a nearby café and grab coffee – my new home might have been exciting and fresh, with delicacies that could never compare with my past comforts, but that place didn’t have coffee. Even though I moved a machine to my room and managed to bring beans home, it never compared to anything I had served in a café.

Coffee newly in hand, the familiar warmth in my belly and bitterness on my tongue I continue my comfort shopping tour of New York. Reece’s peanut butter cups were a must, as was any new music which was currently downloading on my phone, silk pyjamas and cotton pyjamas, lingerie, feminine products, new underwear and bras, vodka and tequila. The list went on and on, anything that I might miss I need to bring back – and some new items that I may need, or that Thor might enjoy. Since it’s Christmas, I pick up a few presents for friends back home. I quietly chuckle at a memory as I pick up a small reindeer and pop it in my basket as somebody touches my arm gently.

I jerk around, waiting to answer questions; _no, I’m sorry, I’m not who you think I am. One of those faces I guess. It’s okay, it happens a lot. Have a nice day._

“Noel.”  
“No-”  
“Noel, it’s you.”  
Banner. Bruce. I can’t breathe, I can’t think. His hand is still on my arm, his wide, warm hand, pulling me in. Both arms touching me now, wrapped around my body, squeezing. My breath returns.

“You’re here. Where have you been?” He was a flurry of questions. “What are you doing? Everyone will be so happy to see you!”  
“No, they won’t.” I manage. “How’re you, Bruce?” His name leaves my lips with great difficulty. And just as I had regained my wits, they were thrown out again when I tried to avert my eyes from his face, only to have them land on a small blonde child in a gigantic pram that was filled with Christmas goodies and tree decorations. I feel my feet shuffle backwards two steps, I back into the display of reindeer. I steady myself as I feel eyes dart towards me in the department store.  
Blonde hair, chubby cheeks, bright, sparkling brown eyes, the slightly hooked nose. Sky.

“I’m good, Noel, but I need to know how you’ve been. You disappear out of nowhere with just a note saying that you need space?” Bruce continues pressing, I can almost feel his excitement and desperation at seeing me, at trying to bring me back to the others. I notice that his hand is still on my arm, like he’s trying to anchor me in place.  
“I’m okay.” I say, staring down at this small Skylar Evans. “I have a nice life, Bruce, I’m okay really.”  
Bruce must catch me staring at mini Sky and picks her up out of the pram with almost fatherly care. She’s so small. So delicate. She makes tiny cooing noises at Bruce’s face, which lights up when their eyes meet.  
“Noel, this is Daisy.” Bruce introduces us. “Sky and Steve got married a few years ago, and Daisy came along. She’s six months old, Steve and Sky are out for the first time since she came into our lives.”  
Bruce says ‘our’ like he’s regularly with Daisy, Sky and Steve, like he’s Daisy’s second father. With all things considered, it doesn’t entirely surprise me that he and Daisy appear to be practically attached at the hip.

“Daisy,” I whisper her name, and her small, round face tilts in my direction. I can’t help the smile that appears on my face, her eyes, that small, baby smile washes pure joy over me. This bundle of utter perfection giggles at me as I smile and I reach out to caress her chubby cheeks. I look to Bruce for reassurance, and he nods. But it is also at this precise moment that I notice Bruce’s face. The new lines around his eyes from laughing – probably at Daisy- and the frown lines from working too hard, or when he thinks about his own daughter. New lines. Wrinkles. It makes me think if he can notice any differences in my face, in me anywhere. In an instant I drop my hand, shoving it into my thick, coat pocket to hide the trembling. I feel my chest moving, picking up pace. The department store chatter hides itself away from my ears, all I hear is Bruce’s penetrating voice.  
“Daisy, this is your aunty Noel.” Bruce tells her, bouncing her happily on his hip, “She’s your mamma’s best friend.” His use of the present tense doesn’t fool me, I know he’s trying to get me to see her. For a split second, I can nearly see the reunion in my mind… Tony’s face knotted in confusion, Steve beaming ear to ear, welcoming me back with open arms. Sky clutching Daisy close, trying to hide the happiness of my return, trying to guard herself against the pain. To see everybody again. But I just can’t do it, and I won’t, I cannot bring myself to look into their eyes. I left three years ago, I only come back to buy things that comfort me. I think about the Reece’s peanut butter cups and the bottles of tequila in my backpack and how much I could really use both at this moment.

“Noel, please tell me where you’ve been. I promise I won’t tell the others. Only Daisy and I will know.” For some reason I believe him. I really do. Bruce just wants to make sure I’m okay, that I’m not in trouble. That I haven’t run off with the Enchantress again or anything.  
“I went to Canada for a few months.” I tell him. It doesn’t matter if he knows, he can’t get to where I am anyway. He doesn’t have access. “But now I’m with Thor. I live with Thor. In Asgard.”  
Saying it out loud is weird, admitting that you live on an alien realm with a god, in a palace.  
Bruce looks equally parts confused and relieved. He knows that I’m safe, that I’m protected. Thor wouldn’t hurt me or let anything hurt me.

“Thor didn’t say anything.” Bruce frowns, it’s almost like his face returns to his normal state as he puts Daisy back in her pram as she squirms against him, wanting the holding to continue.  
“I asked him not to.” I say, the hand that isn’t in my pocket fiddles with the gold and green necklace that has become like a second-skin, “I still need space.”  
“It’s been years Noel, look at everything that you’re missing out on.” He gestures to Daisy, “Taylor Swift even has a new album.” He jokes, the frown lines somehow become more pronounced.  
“Yeah, I know,” I chuckle, but the light air doesn’t last, we start to stroll down the aisles together like old friends. I have to explain where my head is at, that I’m not coming back right now. “But I can’t come back yet, Bruce. It’s just not time. You can tell everybody I say hello and that I’m safe, I can even start sending you letters or something but I’m just not ready to move back here.”  
“Okay,” Bruce says, I can hear the strain in his voice, my stomach fills with guilt and my knees almost lock together, begging me to stay for his sake, “Can I at least treat to coffee – or lunch- before you have to go?”  
I don’t know why exactly, but I nod. I pay for my items and Bruce takes me to the small café I purchased coffee from before. We sit by a window that is no longer under the shadow of Stark Tower, but it is still in full view. Outside it starts snowing, a light flurry that will be New York City road-slush before too long.

Bruce and I catch up for the most part. He tells me about his new theories, the work he does in Stark Industries, how the Avengers are now essentially SHIELD – or what SHIELD had been. How Tony and Pepper had gotten back together a year or so ago and were engaged now. Natasha and my brother were off holidaying in New Zealand right now, and a few months ago they had been in Vietnam. It seems like they were taking it easy in the current peaceful climate and taking full advantage of the Avengers’ private jet and Stark’s incredibly _deep_ pockets. Throughout our conversation and the small interruptions of sipping on coffee and ordering more I can’t help but notice that one of Bruce’s hands is always on Daisy’s pram, and he starts rocking the baby vehicle about half way through our lunch date. Daisy is rocked gently to sleep within moments, the peaceful expression on her face is nearly enough to convince me to stay, but instead, I tell him about Asgard, living with Thor and Odin and Frigga, how I’d taken up a new job thanks to Thor as a prison guard. And when Thor needed it, I sometimes came with him to different realms to quell small uprisings and civil disobediences.  
After our third cup of coffee, Bruce’s phone rang to summon him back to his life. He doesn’t tell me who it is on the other end of the line, but the familiar soft tone gives it away. Sky is checking in on Daisy.

“Please make some kind of contact soon,” Bruce makes me promise him, sliding out of his chair and peering over the pram cover to check on Daisy.  
“I’ll try.” I nod, hugging him and taking a look one last time at Daisy, her face becoming tattooed on my brain.

Before I can run into any more upset, I gather my bags, ignoring their immense weight. I run, heading straight for Central Park. I stumble more than a few times – the icy sidewalk and people walking with their phones in front of their faces make it difficult to get anywhere in this damned city. With snow matting itself into my hair, I manage to find a secluded spot in the park, with most people seeking cover in stores from the now heavily falling snow. I take just a moment to catch my breath, grip my bags harder and try to steady myself.  
  
“Heimdall, take me home.” I look to the sky, I see the rainbow, and I fly.


	2. Those Piercing Emeralds

_Approximately two years after Noel’s arrival in Asgard_

Asgard moved around me in it’s regular hustle and bustle for a weekday morning. Small airships flew overhead with barely a whisper of sound, skimming through the narrow golden alleyways. The regular people of Asgard were seemingly unaware of the significance of today, of what may happen. Then again, the Asgardians have probably had to deal with sort of thing all the time; the freeing of dangerous peoples back into their society.   
Thor’s cape billowed out behind us, enveloping us in a sea of red that divided the people down the street.

“What do I even say?” I asked him again, even though we’d already gone over my statement a hundred times that morning alone.   
“Tell them about your experience, what he did to help you, how you think that he may be changing since his -erm- experiment with human enslavement.” That was the fourth time Thor had come up with a different way to phrase Loki’s invasion and attempted enslavement of the human race. It was also my personal favourite, with trial planetary dictatorship in a close second.   
I sighed, fiddling with the cuffs of the shirt that I had underneath my dull grey armour, “I know, but Brunnhilde and Alexandra may be my future overseers, and they seem hellbent on keeping him locked up, Thor. I don’t want this to hurt my chances of being among their ranks.”   
Thor ushered me around a corner, heading straight for a gigantic fountain that had water that shimmered like silver among the golden buildings. “The Valkyries are sworn to my father, and he has allowed you to speak today, I don’t see it becoming an issue. Who knows, they may even like that you can stand up and speak your opinions even if they aren’t popular.”   
Thor had been almost unnervingly optimistic over the past few weeks, ever since Odin had agreed to let Loki have a hearing to be possibly freed. He had been preparing his statement for days, thinking of every tiny example of goodness that could be traced back to Loki’s actions, anything that would give his brother a second chance – or possibly a twentieth chance? I wasn’t sure how many times Loki had been imprisoned before, but I was sure that it was at least in the double digits.

We sat in a room that on Earth probably would have been labelled a conference room, except Midgardian conference rooms did not typically look out over the water with the Bifrost bridge just in view, twinkling in the daylight. There was a large wooden table with intricate detailing along the edges, small figures from Asgardian history acting out their greatest deeds. The chairs matched the wooden table, all pretty plain with no detailing except for Odin’s, who sat at the head of the table in the chair that had his two ravens, Huginn and Muninn, etched into the sides of the chair. Brunnhilde, all muscle and armour sat to Odin’s left, with Alexandra, the lithe and impossibly beautiful Head Valkyrie on his right. Thor and Queen Frigga along with myself and a few other Asgardians sat at the opposite end of the table.

“We assemble here today to discuss the release of prisoner number 59702, Loki of Asgard, the God of Mischief. He has been imprisoned after attempting to take over the planet Earth and enslave the human race that resides there among other serious offenses.” Odin rattled out the administrative details for the day. “The petition for his release has been brought forth by his brother and my son, Thor, the God of Thunder, who will make the case that Loki has shown evidence of positive change and therefore, should be released in order to progress these changes.”   
“Thank you, father.” Thor bowed his head slightly as Odin gestured for his son to stand and begin the day’s proceedings.

Thor’s speech was impassioned and fierce, he explained nearly every instance he could think of that showed that his brother was a good person, that he had the potential to be an even better person if he weren’t stuck in a prison cell. Queen Frigga followed her son, detailing most of Loki’s childhood and how he had been such a patient and gracious student while she taught him all she knew about Asgardian sorcery and matters of the Nine Realms. She highlighted his compassionate side, how he would always sit by her side when she would fall ill and ensure that she was being cared for. I could feel the tension as Odin’s son and wife spoke, like they both wanted to mention that Loki had always been a good person with some questionable views but he had been pushed over the edge by the revelation of his ancestry, that should Odin have told him about Jotunheim in the first place perhaps this never would have happened.

I was inclined to agree with them but hypothesising about what may have happened wasn’t going to change the events that had already happened. For better or for worse, Loki was directly responsible for the position I was currently in whether I went back two years or four years, Loki was the catalyst that changed my entire world.

A few members of the palace guard and household staff followed the Queen. I sat through six speeches about Loki’s potential goodness before Odin summoned me to stand and weigh in on the debate.

All eyes in the room were on me as I stood up. I fiddled with my sleeve again as I felt Alexandra’s eyes slide over me, her apprentice Valkyrie, on the other side of the table – on the other side of her justice.

I decided it was probably best to introduce myself to give the best version of my account. “My name is Noel Barton, on Earth I also go by Ghost to a few people. Until I came here a few years ago I was one of Earth’s Avengers, like Thor. My brother was turned against me in Loki’s attack on Earth and I was dragged into the Battle of New York against him. To cut a rather long story short, it is because of him that I am standing here today. His actions resulted my gifts revealing themselves and becoming an Avenger rather than a SHIELD agent. When I visited here on Thor’s orders years ago, I fixed your Bifrost bridge with those powers and with Loki’s help again, because he agreed to teach me how to control my gifts and how to handle another one of your sorcerers, Amora the Enchantress. Following that, Earth went through some more difficulties which resulted in me nearly dying in a battle, but somehow Loki had managed to escape your prison and return to Earth days before, and he found me and he healed me.” I told them, I felt the Queen’s eyes dart to my face, seemingly unaware of what her son was responsible for. The fact Thor never told Frigga about Loki saving two human lives puzzled me – Frigga believed so much in her son, she knew about his devious deeds but she also wanted to know about all of her son’s actions, good or bad.

“He healed me so that I wouldn’t die even though we had once been enemies.” I continued, “And yes, he broke out of prison to do it, and yes I do think that he may have saved me so that he could claim some sort of debt that he thought I had to him, but that doesn’t change the fact that he _did_ save my life, and he also saved the life of Tony Stark, the Iron Man, when I asked him too. And it also doesn’t change the fact that I-” I hesitated, contemplating my next words, “I _do_ believe that he has the ability to change. I have seen him on the battlefield, and I have seen him in a prison cell, and I have seen him pretend to be human and live with me so that he wouldn’t be found by Thor and taken back to Asgard, and I’d like to believe that after all we’ve been through that if I think he has the potential to be good, then you can give him that chance.” I sat down, Thor gripped my arm supportively and Queen Frigga gave me a small smile of gratitude as Odin asked for the next witness to rise.

\--  
_Present day_

Asgard always glitters, no matter how many times I look out at the city from the edge of the Bifrost. The sun was setting in this realm, creating an orange hue over everything as the sun reflected on the golden walls of the Asgardian palace. My backpack and other bags suddenly feel incredibly heavy, I drop everything where I stand, the thud echoes around the sphere, filling my ears for an agonizingly long time. My breathing has returned to normal, but the shaking hasn’t subsided. No matter how many times I count my breaths, no matter how much I try to think of anything else, all I see when I blink is Daisy’s face. I can still feel Bruce’s wide, warm hand on my forearm like it’s a brand.

“One…Two…Three…” I force myself to count aloud, like it’s going to help. Like it will erase my memories of today. “Four…” I clench my fists, willing the shaking to stop. It’s not working.   
“Noel,” I hear Heimdall’s deep voice behind me, “Do you require assistance?”   
“No,” I say, perhaps a little too quickly. I steady my voice. “I’m alright Heimdall, just a long day. Do you think you could get somebody to help with my bags?”   
“Of course, would you like them taken to your room?” He asks.  
“Yes, thank you.” I start the long walk from the Bifrost bridge to the palace, each step away from the gateway between worlds seems harder than the one that came before it. The streets are bustling with activity, young Asgardians readying themselves for the nightlife, swapping training armour and professional clothing for glittering gowns and exquisitely made leather jackets. It’s at this point that I notice that I’m turning heads. I’ve forgotten to swap my jeans and winter coat for Asgardian leathers and armour. I pull my coat in further around my body and pick up the pace, realising that I am also late for dinner and that I didn’t exactly tell Thor about my excursion today.

Hurrying through the streets, I make it to the dining hall of the palace in time for the cloches to be removed from tonight’s meals. The smells hit me instantaneously, the rich, succulent meats, the steamed vegetables – I can even smell the ale coming from Thor’s yellowing drinking horn. Frigga and Loki sit side by side, deep in conversation as they sip from their silver goblets which were most likely filled with wine. Odin, of course, sits at the head of the table, his golden eye patch glittering as the sun hits it. I take my place next to Thor as he notices my attire.   
“You visited Midgard today,” He states, cutting into his meal. He peers at me through the corner of his eye, inviting me to comment.   
“I needed to pick up a few things.” I say, picking up my fork and spearing the closest carrot on my plate. “I didn’t realise how late it was – sorry I’m in human clothes.”  
“No need to be so apologetic,” Odin invites himself into the conversation. “How was your day on your home world?”   
I shrug and keep my eyes steady on the table’s centre piece; a lovely bouquet of orange flowers, “It’s awfully grey in the cities. And the people are very…unforgiving.”

I twist the fork in my hand, watching the carrot rotate in front of my eyes like I’m observing some kind of scientific experiment in a lab. Labs make me think of Tony and Bruce. I shove the carrot into my mouth and count how my chewing – I make it to ten before I swallow and start the process all over again.   
Across the table, I can feel Loki’s eyes on me. Those piercing emeralds bore into my skull, sensing every breath coming from my body, analysing my every unconscious movement. Loki has been out of prison for about a year, the Valkyries take turns in monitoring his behaviour; it’s like an Asgardian version of a princely parole system. Loki actually ended up getting a lot of his time reduced when he admitted to helping me fix the Bifrost bridge all those years ago. The Avengers weren’t aware of Loki’s current free status, and Thor and I didn’t have any plans to inform them in the future, we just hoped that Loki was actually going to be a better person this time around.

“Oh,” Frigga’s light voice picks up, as she twitches her fingers ever so slightly and conjures a small piece of parchment out of the air. “Noel, Alexandra left a letter for you.” She passes it over to me as I reach chew number fourteen on a piece of beef and swallow. I open it swiftly and find my new assignment enclosed inside. The parchment is etched with Nordic symbols that I’ve only just begun to learn how to read so it takes me a few moments to decode the language.

_Your new assignment is Loki until stated otherwise._

I set the letter down on the table, knowing full well that Thor read the letter out of the corner of his eye.   
“New assignment?” Loki tries to make conversation, sipping from his silver goblet. I swear I can almost see a glimmer in his eye. He already knows. He’s just asking to watch me squirm. He’s baiting me – and I take the bait.   
I give him a small smirk, lifting my own silver goblet, “Yeah, you.”  
Loki tilts his head to the side, taking another sip, like he’s considering what he can do with this new information, how he can make his life more interesting. Being under such strict guard there are obvious limits on what Loki can get away with, and I can almost see it taking its toll sometimes. Those green eyes always shimmer with energy, like he’s waiting for his next adventure, but he knows there won’t be adventures and schemes for a very, very long time.

“How long will you be Loki’s guard for?” Frigga asks, Odin watching over us all. He already knows the details of this conversation. The Valkyries are his warriors, all decisions made my Alexandra and Brunnhilde are detailed to him in weekly consultation meetings, which always includes a Valkyries current location and where their next assignment will take them.   
“It doesn’t have an end date, so a while.” I tell Frigga.

The rest of dinner passes as usual, a game of footsie under the table, sipping on wine until I feel a lovely buzz, eating the delicious and magical food. Odin keeps Thor up to date with the political climate of the Nine Realms, despite Thor's nearly constant protests against eventually having to take his place as the ruler of Asgard. Thankfully, that didn't look like it would be coming soon - but it didn't stop the protests. 

I excuse myself early from dinner, citing a vague excuse of a need to rise early in the morning – despite practically living with my newest assignment.

My room is considered small by palace standards. My bed is basically the size of a shoe-box-New York apartment by itself, my en-suite was a full-size bathroom, I had about three different wardrobes full of training clothes, fancy dresses for palace functions, Midgardian clothing and everyday wear for what precious days off training that I had. It also had one of the best views in Asgard, looking directly out onto the mountains behind the palace, at the lush greenery that seemed untouched by the Asgardian city that I was living in. 

I spend quite a bit of time scrubbing every inch of my body in the bathtub, removing all traces of Midgard, leaving only the memories that I wish I could erase from my mind. By the time I remove myself from the bathtub I feel like I have removed ten layers of skin, and I slip into a very light, black night gown. 

It isn’t until I’m sitting on my bed, a book on Norse linguistics in hand, that I realise how tired I am. Typically my days off Valkyrie work leave me refreshed, my muscles are allowed to stretch and move freely without the weight of armour hanging from my shoulders. I place the book back on my nightstand, and I actually try to sleep for once, instead of letting sleep claim me for its own. But no matter how hard I try, no matter how many sheep I count, I cannot remove Daisy’s sweet face from my mind. Her gurgling giggles float in my ears, her smile brings tears to my eyes and before I know it, I’m crying. My whole body is shaking uncontrollably, sobs reverberating into the mattress and the bed frame, my salty tears soak the pillow. I clamp my mouth shut to keep the noise of my sobs to a minimum – though in a palace of this size, I doubt anybody can actually hear me. But keeping everything contained seems so much easier than letting it out.

I don’t hear the soft knocks tonight like I do most nights. Instead he lets himself in, closing the door behind him. I feel the mattress sink beneath his weight, and his cool hands slide up my back and around my waist, pulling me into his lean body. He holds me for a very long time, it feels like hours, and he doesn’t say anything beyond the murmuring of something in his native language that I don’t understand yet, but from the melody feels like a lullaby. When I’ve calmed down enough, he presses a long finger to my temple, asking a question. My answer is a nod. He invades my mind.

He sees everything, feels everything, knows everything. I know he is in there for a mere few seconds but the agony of reliving seeing Bruce and meeting Daisy Rogers makes it feel like a lifetime.

His muscles coil up, I feel his chest stop for an instant when he realises who Bruce Banner is, who he knows him as. The two green monsters have met once before, and it did not end well for the one who holds me now.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” He pulls me in closer, his muscles unfurl themselves and his breathing regulates.   
“I- I don’t…They-” I can’t form the words that appear in my mind, I cannot express anything.   
“We’ll talk about it in the morning.” He murmurs into my ear, placing a feather-light kiss to my temple as he shifts us both under the covers and cocoons me into his body. I am shrouded in warmth, and Daisy’s giggles disappear, replaced by the sound of his steady breathing, Bruce’s hand on my arm is replaced by his heartbeat thumping against my back.   
I shut my eyes, I see black, and I fall into the sleepy abyss.


	3. Wayward

_Approximately six months after Noel’s arrival in Asgard_

Even Asgardian prisons shimmered like water at twilight. Prisoners were penned into rather large cells, stuck behind a glittering gold wall of Asgardian magic. Prisoners sat against white walls, hiding behind engraved grey pillars, a few laughed together, playing some kind of game that they made up to pass the long, gruelling hours. I wondered if the shimmering golden walls dimmed at night to let the prisoners sleep, or if they had to deal with the brightness keeping them awake until they fell unconscious with exhaustion.

I shivered, remembering cold nights, lying against concrete and collapsing with exhaustion. Prisoners stared as I walked through, leather boots clicking against the cold floors, loose skirts swishing around my legs and against the floors. I drew my shawl around my body, fighting the chill in the air.

There were so many prisoners here, but I searched for one in particular. Tall, lithe, blonde with eyes that looked like you were staring into burial pits. Thor told me she was at the end of the hall – they did that with all prisoners who were classified sorcerers. In another hall not to far away, I would find Loki himself, sitting at the end of a hall, black hair shaggy and unkempt.

For the most part, Amora was the same, blonde, tall, lithe, dead-eyes still there. But I had only ever known her when she had been free. As I peered into her cage I could feel her rage, she paced up and down the small space like a lion in a zoo, reading to attack at any moment. She knew I was here, she had known the second I’d stepped foot in the prison. She had probably known the second I arrived using the Bifrost months ago.

“Hello Amora.” I said, watching her movements, scanning her face for any change.   
“Why are you here?” The Enchantress barely blinked when I addressed her. I don’t know why I expected any different. Those months we’d spent together all those years ago were nothing, I had been using the whole time just as she had been using me, the only difference was that I had been smart enough to turn to the Allfather and tell him where she was so that she could be imprisoned and I would have enough time to fix the Bifrost. And this was where she had been for years. I returned home, she sat in this cell. I jumped out of a window, she sat in this cell. Hydra kidnaps me, we both sit in cells for a long, long time. But I was freed eventually, by my family. She still sits here, pacing in a square, facing the same golden wall that has penned her in for nearly two years.

“Just wanted to see how my favourite Enchantress was going.” I lean against one of the engraved pillars as she stops her pacing. “Figured you could use a surprise after all this time.”   
“Gloating is not becoming of you, Noel Barton.” She snarls, glaring at me, her face hovering near the golden wall. I wonder what happens to her when she touches it.  
“Oh but I did learn how to gloat from the best.” I grin.  
“Flattery will get you nowhere.”  
“I was talking about Loki, do try to keep up.”

I didn’t know why, but gloating over the Enchantress - declaring my freedom – it felt good. She was right, gloating was unattractive but I’d woken up this morning with a need to face my her, to face what she and I had gone through together all those years ago. How it was my fault that she was stuck like this now. I’d expected to feel the guilt for years after the fact, but it had occurred to me last night that I had been living in Asgard for six months and for all our talk of Loki being locked in a prison, I hadn’t once thought of my very own nemesis that was sitting and rotting away down there.

“I just wanted to say,” I pushed off against the pillar, scowling at Amora, “That you deserve this, and for as long as I’m here you won’t be leaving this cell.”   
Amora chuckled darkly, the smile that flittered across her face made me flinch. “Don’t worry, you deserve what you got too.”

\--

_Present day_

I wake up with the vague memory of a dream still rattling around in my mind. I still feel the joy of that dream, but I cannot remember the details. There is an arm, slack, but still holding my waist to his body. I remember what occurred before sleep claimed me as I wriggle around in the god’s grasp and come face to face with a peacefully sleeping monster. His raven black hair is soft, splaying out across the pillows and resting gently on his face, his breathing is calm and steady, the only thing that gives away his now awakened state is his arms tightening around my body as I lean in purposefully, pressing a soft kiss to his thin, soft lips. He kisses back almost immediately, a small hum of enjoyment emanating from his body, I feel his fingers dig into my back gently as our bodies come together, my breasts, covered by black silk, resting against his bare chest.

“Good morning,” I murmur, pulling back as his eyelids flutter open, revealing his sleepy green eyes.  
“I could get used to waking up to that.” He smirks lazily as his hands travel lower, and underneath my nightclothes. His hands roam over my ass, squeezing sensually, dragging his fingers over my hips, leaving trails of fire in his wake. All the warmth in my body sinks between my legs and begins to throb.   
I find myself giggling, my face becoming flushed, “You act like you haven’t been for the last few months.”  
Before I know it, he’s flipping me under the covers. Suddenly I’m flat on my back, his hands are on both sides of my head and he’s resting rather eagerly between my legs. His black hair frames his face as he looks down on me, he looks almost like an angel when the sunlight shines through the windows at the right angles. He wastes no time, his mouth is on mine in an instant, his lips send me into a frenzy all by themselves, kissing me slowly, knowing exactly what to do to drive me insane. He lingers for the perfect amount of time to make my mind turn to mush and send all the right signals to all the right places. My hips tilt, bucking up to meet his, begging for some kind of contact but each time I make an attempt he chuckles and pulls away.

“Please,” I beg breathlessly, trailing one hand down his smooth chest, brushing gently across his hips before my fingers gently stroke the bulge in his pants. I look down between us, black silk draping over my body, his grey bottoms are hanging low off of his hips. I bring my eyes up to meet his, the moment they lock together he descends into another frenzy of fervent kisses, locking my lips with his, his tongue brushing against my bottom lip as I let him in. He explores my mouth, massaging my tongue with his, moaning into my mouth. He trails his mouth across my face and begins kissing my neck, knowing the exact spot to start sucking and nibbling that makes me fall silent in ecstasy.   
It takes me a few moments to regather my wits, but when I do I brush my hands over his abdomen and slip my fingers into his pants, pushing them down so they rest below his ass. My hand claims his length and begins stroking, his hips buck enthusiastically into my hand. He moans loudly against my neck.

“Please,” I whisper into his ear.  
“You know what I want to hear.” He murmurs, moving back to reclaim my mouth, he’s having fun not hearing me say it, drawing this out, I know he is.   
I manage to pull away long enough to beg, my free hand snakes into his hair, “Please Loki.”   
He smirks, pressing a kiss to my lips and mumbling a command, “Kneel for me, darling.”

He moves off of me so I can roll over and kneel in front of him. He’s behind me, running his cool hands down my back, pushing me down and guiding me to hold onto the bedhead. He enters me from behind without warning, I let out a small moan and start trying to move against him immediately. His hands grip my hips, I can feel sweet bruises forming already, and I know that the gentle Loki that has been teasing me is gone now. I’m full of him, relishing how I can feel every inch of him, how his hands grip me in the right place, and this is all before he even starts to move. He pulls out agonizingly slowly, and before I can complain about the pace, he rolls his hips forward, filling me up once more, and desperately thrusts into me. His movements are so powerful that the green and gold necklace around my neck bounces against my chest. His moans fill the room, he whispers things that I don’t understand and can’t hear. I learned long ago that the prince of Asgard is the opposite of quiet between the sheets.

Loki begins to thrust even hard and faster, the sounds of our bodies colliding together punctuates his moans as his left-hand snakes its way around my hips and finds my small bundle of nerves. He starts off tantalisingly light, circling the nub, whimpers escape from my mouth without my permission. I’m a whimpering, shivering mess between his hands. I can feel the heat rising, my muscles tightening and a slight ache begins to appear.   
“Please,” I beg, “Loki…Oh god, please. Fuck.”   
I hear him chuckle behind me. I move my hips in time with his thrusts, he increases the pressure and picks up the pace. I grip the bedhead harder, moaning nearly continuously as Loki thrusts deeply, working every spot on my body that he knows drives me wild. I move my hips in time with him, feeling my orgasm drawing nearer and nearer.   
“I’m so -so close.” I let out shakily, “So close.”   
Loki groans at my admission, slowing his pace slightly, lightening his fingers around my clit. I whimper at his teasing, he chuckles and resumes his pace, fucking me hard.   
“Loki,” I groan, shaking around him as a I climax, nearly falling on my face as I let the bedhead go. Loki’s climax follows quickly, filling me with warmth.

I slump against the pillows, exhausted, my body humming with pleasure. Loki doesn’t say anything, he simply lies there like he usually does, breathing steadily. I’m the first to move, leaving the bed and heading to the bathroom to wash myself and clean up a bit.

“So, what are we doing today?” Loki asks from the bed after I emerge from the bathroom.  
I shrug, grabbing a clean white undershirt from a drawer and looking around for my brown pants. “Whatever, I guess. Do you need to go anywhere that I should be aware of?”  
With Loki being my new assignment, I essentially became his bodyguard and spy. Basically, I had to ensure that he kept himself out of trouble and schemes and that he was not using sorcery for unnecessary reasons. It also meant that for the foreseeable future, Loki and I would essentially be joined at the hip.   
He smirks as I find my pants and pull them on. “Well, I did have a meeting on Jotunheim at three and Hydra was going to come visit for dinner by I think I can reschedule.”

I freeze at the mention of Hydra just as I’m fastening the button on my pants. “That isn’t funny.”  
Loki rolls his eyes, “Oh come on, you know that I don’t actually have anything scheduled. I was being humorous.”   
I glare at him. “Not funny. Look, I think we can just hang out here today. We’re not going anywhere. Just stay within the palace walls.”  
“But-” Loki starts.   
“Shut up and get out.” I turn on my heel and slam the door to my balcony, cutting Loki off from trying to speak again.

Loki, however, has other ideas. By the time I turn around, thinking that he is gone, I find him waiting on the other side of the door, fully dressed in black and green leather with the occasional hint of gold embroidery – even when he’s hanging around the palace he’s in full princely regalia.   
“I told you to leave.” I say.   
“And I’m ignoring that request.” He shrugs. “I’m not stupid, little Valkyrie. This is about your little secret Midgard visit and your run in with…with that monster.”   
“He’s not a monster!” I exclaim through the door, “His name is Bruce.”

Saying his name is like firing a bullet, my eyes begin to sting and my chest contracts in pain. I can see Bruce, his brown hair, his glasses, the salt and pepper beard. The wrinkles. I shake my head, trying to free myself.   
“And its not, I’m just – I’m not in the mood today.” I stammer out.   
“You were fifteen minutes ago!” Loki says incredulously. “So, between then and now something happened and I know it’s because I said that name.”  
“It’s not! I’m fine.” I declare. “Go pull a rabbit out of a hat or something, just leave me alone.”   
Loki frowns but stays put. “Daisy.”   
“If you value being conscious you’ll shut the fuck up right now.” I warn, my voice unwavering. “I told you not to go through my fucking mind, Loki.”  
“You were a mess, what was I supposed to do? Leave you to choke on your own sobs? Thor would skin me alive.” He says all of this while he opens the door and joins me on the balcony. “Why didn’t you tell anybody you were going to Midgard yesterday?”  
I take a step back from him, “I’m not the one who gets assigned bodyguards here.”  
“Noel.” His eyes narrow, demanding answers that I don’t have. His eyes are a darker shade of green today, they dart over my face, analysing every twitch. I can feel my blood boiling against my skin, my eyes pricking with tears that are fuelled by frustration. What right does he have to question me, what right does he have to judge me – to look inside my mind and know my secrets and judge me for how I am? What right does he have to know my secrets and joke about them and be angry at me for getting upset?

I glare up at him, “Don’t come to my room tonight. Please just leave.”  
Loki growls, visibly angry at being bossed around. But he knows that he can’t do anything against me. He may be a prince, but I am a Valkyrie now. I work directly for the Allfather, who has assigned me to watch over his wayward son. If he were to make any kind of move, I could have him in chains in seconds flat. He knows this because he trained me.

I stay on the balcony for a good while, mesmerised by the verdant hills and mountains that lay behind the palace, far off into the distance. The scenery reminds me of my first mission with Thor as a Valkyrie, investigating a small disturbance on Vanaheim. That first mission had been nearly a year and a half ago and the very end of my training. I remember it distinctly because it was when the attacks first started. The cold sweat down my back. The terrifying feeling in my stomach. The crying. My chest feeling like it is seconds away from exploding.   
I remember staring up at the beautifully tall and lush trees and spotting a bird. I knew it wasn’t a hawk, we weren’t on Earth. But it was so graceful, the shape was exactly the same, the colour. I knew it was not a hawk and yet… All I could think about was Hawkeye. My brother. Clint.

I’ve been thankful for Thor and indebted to him twofold; for letting me stay with him, and for staying silent about my anxiety. If the Valkyries knew, I’d be exiled from their ranks in an instant. I’d just begun to rebuild a new life for myself and I couldn’t bare to think about the friends I had left behind, let alone the only family I had ever truly known. Through all of the revelations that came during Hydra’s assault on our lives, Clint stood by me, he stayed the same brother he had always been, he comforted me in ways that nobody else could even imagine. And I had abandoned him like the coward that I truly was.

The combination of anger and guilt blossoms into an idea as I stand on the balcony, watching the world move on below me.

An hour later, after crossing the streets of Asgard, I find myself standing with Heimdall at the edge of the Bifrost bridge, looking out into the universe through his shimmering bronze eyes.  
“Is it possible to send non-organic material through the bridge to a specific location?” I ask him.   
Heimdall frowns in contemplation, “In theory, I’d assume so.”   
I hold the letter out to him, “So, if I wanted this letter to make it to my brother, it could?”  
“I can try.” Is all he says, taking the letter from my hand. I tell Heimdall my brother’s name and what he looks like, so that he can find him with his vision. When he locates him, he tells me he is on a beach, asleep in the sun. Heimdall sends the letter through the Bifrost, and for a moment, my heart flutters with happiness and the guilt fades to nothing.


	4. Sophistication

_Approximately 2 months after Noel’s arrival in Asgard_

My first Christmas in Asgard was simultaneously exciting and utterly depressing. I remember being surprised that it snowed during the Asgardian winters, it seemed unfathomable for the golden buildings to be smothered by snow for a quarter of the year, but I soon learned that Asgardian winters shimmered with a magic that was entirely unique.

I spent most of my time sitting by the open hearth in Thor’s chambers while he was out and about, showing his face to his people after being away for so long. He had missed the last Christmas here, having been on Earth helping the Avengers battle against Hydra, but now that he had returned, Odin often remarked that the people’s spirits had been lifted enormously for the Yuletide festivities.

The days passed in blurs, my eyes watched the fire, my face felt the warmth, but inside was cold – no matter how many blankets I covered myself in, no matter how close I sat to the fire I always felt cold.  
“Noel!” Thor bellowed rather jolly, returning home from one of his latest outings. Today’s had only been a short one, he was back well before sundown. He noted that I was now sat in an entirely different position from what he’d left me in. “I see you’ve moved today.”  
I shrugged, “I was cold.”  
Thor nods, removing his cloak as he sits next to me, warming his hands by the fire. “Did you go out today?”  
“No.”  
“Would you like to go out? It’s still daytime, you could see the snow on the ground, might be a nice change from that New York slush that you’re used to.” Thor suggested, talking directly into the fire.  
“No thank you.” I said softly, leaning against Thor’s hard shoulder, revealing in the warmth that radiated from him. “I just want to stay here right now, is that okay?”  
I remember feeling one of his gigantic arms sweep over my shoulders and hold me close to him like he was clutching a broken baby bird. “It was okay yesterday, it is okay today and it will be okay tomorrow.” He promised, “But I would like you to promise me that you will come out with me the day after tomorrow.”

As promised, two days later I was dressed in warm leather pants, boots and a cloak, ready for wherever Thor wanted to take me for the day. I waited for him dutifully outside the palace gates, watching the nearby Asgardians trudge through the snow, often arm in arm with one another. It didn’t take much longer for Thor to appear by my side, with two quivers and two bows. He handed one of the quivers too me which I hesitated slightly to strap to my back before he handed over the smaller of the two bows.

“And here I thought we were just going for a walk, Thor.” I said rather worriedly, weighing up the bow’s foreign weight in my hands. It felt so much heavier than it looked.  
“We’re only a few days out from official Yuletide celebrations,” Thor began explaining as we started through the snow, “It is tradition that I hunt the deer that will be consumed at our feast.”  
“And you want me to help with that?” I couldn’t help but chuckle ever so slightly. I wasn’t a hunter, I wasn’t an Asgardian, I had no place in his traditions.  
Thor’s shoulders sag a little, he fiddles with the strap of his quiver – small movements, like he’s aware of his uncomfortable tell. “Loki usually accompanies me.”  
“Oh.” Is all I managed to get out.

The bitter cold wind caresses our faces throughout the rest of the day. Thor and I hiked through the mountains and valleys, tracking deer for hours through the snow, keeping track of wind direction and the light. Together we found solace, we moved together without speaking, finding each other amongst the stark white snow and trees. It was during these moments that I realised that we have both lost our loved ones, and that we are connected by that thread of terrible sadness. For the few weeks that I had been staying with him I had foolishly thought that his hospitality had been born out of the debt that he owed me. I hadn’t seen his grief over losing his brother, hadn’t seen his struggle with isolation, the lonely heir to Asgard’s throne, without his mischief maker.

When we found the perfect buck, we instantly moved, nocking our arrows in unison, waiting for the perfect moment. I admired the large animal while we waited for our shot. The antlers were huge, I counted at least eight points crowning the creature, fur so dark it was nearly black, so striking against the green trees being illuminated by the setting sun. Thor loosed his arrow first, striking the animal perfectly and rendering my arrow useless. He still slung an arm over my shoulders, drawing me close in silent gratitude and squeezing me gently.

\--

_Present day_

I know I sent the letter through a bridge that Clint could never figure out how to use, but some part of me still wishes that he could respond. The days that followed after the letter was sent were almost as painful as the weeks directly after I fled Earth. The tiniest things reminded me of my brother, the way a person smiled at me, birds singing in the early morning, my own mind scolding myself for staying up too late. It didn’t help matters much when I had to deal with both princes of Asgard snooping around. Thor knew something was wrong the second I came back from Midgard that day, and so did Loki. The only problem was I hadn’t snapped at Thor for bringing up bad memories, I’d snapped at the prince who I was supposed to be attached to as per Odin’s orders.

“Noel, can we _please_ leave the palace today?” Loki whines like a toddler from the opposite side of the room, a leather book resting on his lap.  
“No.” I respond, flicking to the next page of my volume on Asgardian linguistics. “I’m studying today.”  
Loki sighs somewhat dramatically so that there’s no mistaking that I hear it. “ _But you studied yesterday_. I do not understand why you will not ask Odin for the Allspeak. He would willingly gift it to you – you are one of his precious Valkyries, it would make your job significantly easier and you would not have to study whilst on the job.”  
“I have plenty of time to learn things the long way.” I peer at him over the cover of my book. I know I’m being mean, we haven’t left the palace in nearly a week and Loki is like a caged panther – if I opened the door right now there was not guarantee that he wouldn’t pounce out the door. But I can’t bring myself to leave the palace.

Loki sighs again, less dramatically this time. “Fine, but can’t we at least find something more interesting to do?”  
I feel his hands on my shoulders instantly, rubbing them sensually. His cool touch ignites something in my stomach, small flutters of warmth. I feel blood rushing up to my cheeks and down too. My mouth runs dry, and I’m overwhelmed by a sudden urge to run my tongue over my lips. I can still see the projection of him lounging on the chair on the other side of the room – the only reason I know the Loki behind me is the real one is because he’s touching me.  
“I told you, no.” I close the volume in my hands abruptly. “Our deal was that we keep emotions out of that arrangement.”  
“Oh,” Loki chuckles behind me, slinking around to sit on the arm of the chair that I’m in, “Oh, does the little mortal love me? This is … amusing.”  
I roll my eyes and huff, “No, Loki. I do not love you. You tried to enslave my entire planet.”  
“Well, dear, if you do not love me then what feelings are you worrying about? Do you picture my brother when I’m buried inside you?” Loki grins, the image of a green Cheshire Cat glimmering through that princely exterior.  
“You’re abhorrent.”  
“Now, now.” Loki clicks his tongue in disapproval, “That’s not what you say in bed, sweetheart.”

I’m out of the chair and walking away from him in a matter of moments, Loki falls back gracefully into the chair I had once inhabited, crossing his legs over the arm. “Okay, if you want some fun then why don’t we go do something to prepare for Christmas – Yuletide?”  
Outside was a sea of gold and green and white, with snow falling heavily every morning. The oceans that surrounded Asgard were frozen over, with many children and parents taking advantage and going ice skating. From the palace they looked like tiny somewhat colourful specks of movement – like stars across a white sky.

Loki’s brow creases for a moment, “What have your experiences of Yuletide been since you arrived here?”  
I shrugged, “The typical festivities, accompanying Thor to feasts on behalf of Odin, tending to Thor on his hunts for the deer that we all eat on Christmas night. You guys also don’t give gifts which is strange.”  
Loki smiles, there is a gleam in his eye that is simultaneously exciting and terrifying, it surprises me that I still feel safe around him. I’m almost concerned with what he may be about to suggest, “I was dragged around to those festivities for years, but you have only seen one half of our traditions.”  
“You have different traditions?” I ask, “But you grew up together, don’t you share some sort of connection to them?”  
Loki shakes his head, “Thor is one for hunts, holding up Odin’s Wild Hunt and consuming copious amounts of different delicacies and ale until he cannot remember his own name, I am more in favour of-” He pauses slightly, I can see the cogs clicking behind his eyes, trying to use the right word, “Sophistication.”

Loki removes himself from the chair and beckons me to follow him up the stairs that spiral above us. I know that these are the stairs that lead to Loki’s hidden chambers, the ones I’ve only been inside of a hand full of times. Loki’s visits usually take place within my bed, and occasionally in some inn or tavern when the palace was crawling with Valkyries. One time in a kitchen and that hadn’t been a pleasant experience – for either of us.

Loki’s room is all dark mahogany wood and dark green painted walls (his mother’s idea, not his, he’d once told me over a glass of wine) with a point of absolutely no hint of gold in the entire vicinity. He strides to his wardrobe, beckoning me to continue following him. My eyes linger on his bed with the grey bedspread for possibly a moment too long before I force myself to enter his wardrobe. The God of Mischief reaches up to a shelf and brings the leather trunk to the floor where he opens it.

“Come look.” He says, gesturing to the contents. “I promise it won’t bite you.”  
I peer over the top of the trunk half expecting to find a severed head or a jar of teeth, one of those infamous Bilgesnipes that Thor always prattles on about – anything that actually could bite me. Instead I come face to face with about a hundred books, all leather bound with their spines worn down so much that the titles inscribed on them are nearly illegible. I look up briefly and notice that his wardrobe has shelving across the tops of all four walls, and that every single space on those shelves is covered by a leather trunk.

“Is every one of those full of books?” I ask incredulously.  
“Nearly.” He admits. I don’t know why it surprises me that Loki is an avid reader, I’ve seen him reading around the palace, and he has recited poetry to me on more than one occasion. But nevertheless, it does.  
“Why are you showing me this?” I ask, running my fingertips over the books in the trunk.  
“Because this is my tradition.” He says, “While Thor and my father and mother take their places for the Wild Hunt, stuff themselves full of food and drink, I read.”  
I frown, “But why?”  
“The Wild Hunt is an ancient tradition, I understand that,” Loki starts, folding his legs so that he is sitting cross-legged against his trunk full of books, “But there was never a place for me in it, I always stayed by Thor’s side and helped him, but he doesn’t need me anymore. Anyway, sometime ago now, on one my less-exciting visits to Midgard I visited a place called Iceland around this time of year and I discovered their tradition. They call it Jólabókaflóð.”  
“Christmas book flood.” I say quietly to myself, translating.  
“Yes – you’ve heard of it?” Loki’s face beams, his voice lifting and becoming excited.  
“Ah, no, just translating.” I respond awkwardly.  
“Never mind that, anyway, it’s become tradition in Iceland to give your loved one’s books for Yuletide and then you stay up all night and read one of them.”  
“Who do you trade with?” I ask.  
“That’s been my only obstacle since the others are all busy with the Hunt.” Loki rubs his neck, “Instead of trading I’ve been buying the books for myself and reading them, but I thought perhaps, since you already have the tradition of giving gifts, you may like to join my small book flood this year.”  
“What if I already got you something?” I smirk, picking out one of the books and opening the cover.  
Loki slides the book out of my hand, “Then also buy me a book.”

I’m already convinced. The moment he uttered the words ‘book flood’ with that excited gleam in his eye I wanted to be a part of this. I was jealous that I hadn’t known about this tradition before or I would have forced Clint to practice it with me. “Okay, I’m in. What’s your favourite genre?”  
Loki smirks, “I thought I might add in a little extra fun. A challenge.”  
I sit up straighter, “Name it.”  
“We have to buy the book with the knowledge that we already know about each other, so no clues. Whoever buys the most suitable book for the other wins the challenge.”  
“And what will be my prize?” I pick up another book, feeling the leather cover, admiring the shade of red, noting the French title.  
Loki laughs, “Confident? I like that. The prize other than the immense satisfaction that **I** will enjoy from victory will be the revelation of one secret – something that you’ve never told anybody else.”  
I hold out my hand to the God of Mischief which he takes as I murmur, “We have a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New updates come Tuesdays!


End file.
